


I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

by sharkie335



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Gen, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is injured and needs a little help from Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my “watersports” square on my kink_bingo card. No one actually gets peed on, though.

Tony bit his lip. He _really_ didn’t want to ask for help with this if he could avoid it, but he had only been able to go so long without drinking something, and now he was having the usual reaction to that.

In other words, he really needed to piss.

Normally, no big deal, right? However, considering the lab accident that had left both hands wrapped in bandages up to his elbows, and little to no ability to even wiggle his fingers, much less undo a zipper and pull himself out, well...

Tony wasn’t exactly shy, but this wasn’t exactly something that he’d ever thought of asking someone to do. And while he had a tower full of superheroes living with him, he was extremely limited as to who he could ask.

Clint would do it, but would give him hell forever and ever. Steve would do it, but it would be so uncomfortable that he’d probably be unable to piss anyway. Thor was visiting Jane in New Mexico. Natasha - just a thousand times _no_.

That left Bruce, which really sucked, since he’d finally made some progress with the flirting, and this was going to put a crimp in that. But if he waited too much longer it was going to be a moot point, as he would fucking wet himself.

“Jarvis? Where’s Bruce?” he asked.

“Dr. Banner is in his lab,” Jarvis answered. “He does not appear to be involved in anything right now, however.”

“Oh, goody,” Tony muttered. “Connect me to him.”

Bruce popped up on the screen, and Tony knew that his face showed up on Bruce’s computer. It was a testament to how long Bruce had been in the tower that he didn’t even startle. “Tony, how’re you feeling?”

“That’s kind of why I’m calling,” TOny said.

Looking concerned, Bruce said, “Are your hands worse? Should I call for a car to take you back to the hospital?”

“Um, it’s not that.” Tony tried to figure out how to say this, and then realized he couldn’t bring himself to do it over Jarvis’s connection. “Could you come up here for a minute?”

“Sure,” Bruce said, and as he turned away, Jarvis cut the line. Great. Now he had about sixty seconds to think of a way to say this without wanting to die of embarrassment. Unfortunately, his mind was a complete blank, and as the elevator dinged, he scrambled fruitlessly to come up with something, _anything_. He failed.

Bruce came in, carrying his bag. Great. He’d obviously assumed that Tony was lying about it being a medical issue. Admittedly, that was a pretty good assumption - Tony frequently lied about how badly he was injured. 

“So, what’s the problem?” Bruce asked again.

“It’s not my hands,” Tony said hurriedly. “They’re not bothering me any more than I expect them to. It’s, um.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. Tony knew from experience that Bruce had reserves of patience that he only dreamed of. Unfortunately, his need was getting worse - it was well into “urgent” at this point.

He sighed and pointedly looked at the wall. “I’ve got to piss, and I can’t undo my damn pants, much less anything else,” he admitted. “Help?”

He had to admit, that given the way that he’d just spat it out, he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear Bruce laugh at him - either because he thought it was funny or because it shocked him. When no laughter was forthcoming, however, he turned to look at him. 

Bruce just shrugged. “I wondered if that was going to be an issue,” he said. “Figured you’d ask if you needed help.” Taking a step forward, he gestured towards the bathroom. “Well, come on.”

Tony stood up quickly, and suppressed a groan as his bladder protested the change in position. Following Bruce to the bathroom, he waited to see how Bruce wanted to handle this. He kind of figured that he’d undo Tony’s pants, shove ‘em down, and then Tony would just have to sit to piss. 

Except Bruce tugged him around so that he was standing in front of the toilet, with Bruce standing behind him. When he wrapped his arms around Tony, Tony couldn’t stop the sound that escaped, but then he was seriously distracted by Bruce unbuttoning and unzipping him, and pulling him out. 

He managed to have just enough self-control to hold on till he was pointed in the right direction, and then he relaxed.

Nothing, _nothing_ , felt as good as pissing did, right at this moment. Not sex, not booze, not being Iron... well, maybe being Iron Man. But the relief that washed through him as he let his bladder relax for the first time in what felt like _years_ was intense.

He pissed for a long time, so overwhelmed with relief that he couldn’t even be embarrassed or turned on by Bruce’s hand on his dick. Finally, though, he finished, and Bruce tucked him away before closing his pants back up. 

Tony tried to think of something to say as a thank you as Bruce washed and dried his hands. “Uh...” 

Bruce smiled. “Not my preferred way to get my hands on your dick, but I hope it helped?”

“Yeah.” Wait a second. “You’ve wanted to get your hands on my dick?”

Bruce’s smile got even wider. “Call me when you need help again. And don’t try not drinking anything - dehydration will keep you from healing properly.”

Tony’s mouth worked as Bruce walked away. He paused at the elevator just long enough to give him a little wave, and then he was gone. Only then did it occur to Tony that Bruce could have helped him change into sweatpants, and then he wouldn’t need help.

He thought about calling Bruce back, or getting help from Steve or Clint, and decided instead that he wouldn’t wait so long next time.


End file.
